Silence of Sorrow
by WishMaker7
Summary: My first story. Volkner/Flint. IF YOU ARE A Volkner/Roark fan then DON'T READ THIS! When I was confused about how the Volkner/Roark couple was more popular than the best friends meant-to-be, this story was created in hopes of giving them more limelight.
1. Prologue: The Shining, Shocking Star

_Volkner_

I had finally wiped the last bead of sweat from my face, revealing the wide grin underneath. "This should do it, Flint! Hold your breath!" To keep me in good humor, he did so. I made a mental countdown: 3… 2… 1… and with the one dropping to zero, I announced, "We're going green!" And flipped the heavy switch with a bit of effort to lift it with my scrawny arms. The light in my flashlight and Luxray were easily overwhelmed by the magnificent ray of electric light that flashed itself awake from its month-long slumber.

"Ah…" Flint smiled. "Good to see again."

I chuckled at this, and his wide grin gave a tingling feeling in my cheeks. He was so beautiful ever since he decided to poof out his hair as one big, wiry mass compared to looking like a clown. I'm sure the jokes would be immortal, though. I'd make them live on forever. If only to hide how beautiful I really thought he was.

"Ronald, you took me into the windowless white van, took me into a pitch-dark room and told me to do all sorts of things… now where's my ice cream?" I joked a very vulgar, pedophilic joke.

"Oh, that last task, kiddo, that _was_ your ice cream!" He laughed. I didn't expect him to take the joke so lightly. He was straight after all, and I thought he'd be offended by that joke. …Or would have found out my affection for him.

I thought all these thoughts as I chuckled. At first, they were sincere from his response, but then they began to drift as my thoughts did. "Whadda you think the public's gonna be like?"

"They're probably gonna be like, 'Blarg, if you hadn't changed anything, this wouldn't have happened, blarg.' Or, 'Blarg, solar power is stupid.' Or they'll be like those hoochy girls by the bar and be like 'Hey, Volkner! OMG a Gym Leader? You're so sexy! We love you, Volkner! Gushgushgush… OMFG, who's that guy you're with?' And I'll be like 'What the fuck? I'm only Elite Four number Three: the one and only Flint,' and I'll put on a sassy grin and they'll be like, 'OMFG, why aren't you the Champion?' and I'll be like—"

I held up my hand to silence him. "Taking it a little too far, buddy."

"Sorry. You know how minds float off? I was just floating off topic."

"Like you usually tend to do!" I grinned.

He punched me playfully. "Arceus, not _my_ fault I'm the stupid one. Mr. I-can-fix-everything-and-still-be-sexy-just-'cause-I'm-Volkner."

This made my heart do a little flip. "You really think I'm sexy?" I asked a bit breathlessly. I was hoping he wouldn't read the sign.

He didn't. "No, I was being those hoochy girls."

"Well, my sister has a dress if you _really_ want to." I laughed, trying to quickly patch up the hole that Flint unknowingly left.

"Meh, Elesa's clothes would show _way too much_ of me. Hell, it shows way too much of her! Only Arceus knows what it'd do to a MAN." And he said 'MAN' with the utmost gruff and dignity in his voice.

I mused at this. "I'd love to see you say 'REAL MEN. WEAR DRESSES.' in that exact same tone in one of her dresses."

"I'll try on one of Morty's scarves or something."

"But my brother won't make you look like a hoochy girl."

"Yeah, he only made _you_ look like him." He tried to joke as he observed my new Gothic clothes. "Purple just isn't your color."

"It looks nice, though?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Well, the same way you straightened your hair—you straightened it, right?—is the same way I'm keeping my clothes."

"Oh, Arceus, you're keeping it like that?"

"No… it's just a phase… what did you think I meant?"

"I'm keeping my hair this way! I just combed it like a normal person, by the way."

"Oh… well, it's a phase, okay? Just like my complete fanboy phase?"

"Volke, you were nine. You didn't have Pokemon and you dressed up like a Pikachu. Not really so much of a phase for a twenty-year-old."

"Well, when I was into all that… eww y'know what? fine!"

Flint smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, making me shudder in a mix of pathetic sexual pleasure and joy that he was holding me in such a way. I fantasized that the action was made out of love of two boyfriends, not two friends. My thoughts broke when Flint said, "Volke, I'm really hoping this is just a phase. But who knows? Maybe this phase is good! As soon as you started the Gothic look, you made that master plan that got the electrics back on. But I've gotta say… I like your sister's amusement park a little better."

"Than solar technology? Jeez, Flint! This is where you were born and raised! No pride, you jerk." Again, all of the tone was light and sarcastic as I punched the arm that bound me to him lightly.

He made a face. "Yeah, they don't have a beach, do they?"

"Or a lighthouse or a giant solar panel system _above _the ground system…"

"But they _do_ have a Ferris wheel…"

"But, c'mon, Flint! We have a giant rock! Shaped like a Munchlax!" I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of my sentence. "Who else has a rock shaped like the awesomeness that is Munchlax?" I broke into uncontrollable laughter at the end, and he couldn't help but laugh along, too.

"C'mon—hehe—Volkner, let's head down to the beach."

"Yeah, okay."

So we did, and he pointed at a cloud. "That looks like a Voltorb."

"Does it look like a Pokeball with a face? No! It's clearly a Reuniclus. You can see the arms and the little antenna-ear thingys… It's a Reuniclus."

"Voltorb!"

"Reuniclus!"

"Vol-torb!"

"Gah! Forget it! It's blowing away, anyway…" I made a mischievous face. I wasn't quite done with him.

"Fine… I'll try being more _specific_, by Arceus," He sighed. "I dunno how you're even seeing all those things!" He took a moment to locate a Pokemon in the sky. "There, it looks like a Dragonite."

"Nope, it's a Hydreigon."

"Dude, what the fuck? Dragonite… Hydreigon… they all look the same in the clouds! Next your gonna tell me that a Tornadus is a Landorus!"

"Well Dragonite is a very cartoonish-looking dragon with small wings and large, wiry eyebrows with a stocky body and long tail, its arm relatively short. Hydreigon is a large, imposing Pokemon with a tubby body—"

"Hehe… tubby…"

"…Are you done, Mr. Mature?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep on yakking about how stupid I am."

"I'm not! It's just that it's obviously a Hydreigon! Dragonite doesn't have that kind of face! It doesn't have faces for arms and it has legs, unlike Hydreigon, who also has six, thin wings instead of two sturdy, small ones. And to answer your other comparison, Tornadus has a whip of hair on its head and little circular bumps on its tail, while Landorus has a giant block on its head and rigid bumps."

"GAH! I now concede to defeat due to my lack of observational abilities." He slumped playfully with his words chosen as if he was in the Renaissance.

I smiled and leaned back against a rock, now content that I was victorious.


	2. Ch 1: Tattered and Torn

_Flint_

I was hoping it didn't have to be like this. I… I love him. He's everything to me. Ever since he and I were children, we were always trying to see who was the best. We eventually established that he was the meek one with all the brains and I was the one who wouldn't shut up and had no strategy in my head outside of Pokemon battle strategy. But now I had to think outside the box, try to be kind and courteous and gentle, and do what I was starting to believe was impossible; I had to save his life.

"F-Flint," Was Volkner the last time I had seen him. "I swear. It's-It's nothing." He hesitated as he chose his words carefully, as if trying to appease me. Or somebody else.

But his feeble pleas could not deter me from what was really lying underneath. Or should I say, on the surface. "Volke, it's a bright purple bruise on all that pasty skin. And it's on your face. I doubt that it just happened to come across that you slammed only your cheek into a wall."

"I… I-I nicked it."

"You nicked. Your cheek. On a wall. Seriously expecting me to believe that, huh?" I knew it was stupid of me to put on such a sarcastic tone. He needed me to be serious, but I didn't know how to be serious until serious decided to smack me in the face going faster than a Pidgeot. And plus, it was the only tone I really knew how to use well.

Volkner knew he was running out of options. "I… need to go now."

"No, you don't. You have to stay here."

"Really, Flint. Roark's gonna be looking for me. Or Byron, one of those two."

"You're. Not. Leaving." I demanded, a somewhat harsh tone as the backbone of my voice.

He cringed. This should have implied to me 'fear,' but I was too determined to find out what was wrong with him to really see it. "It's nothing, Flint!" He blurted out weakly upon the harshness of my tone, the welling of tears forming in his throat. Although his face flushed in fear, he would not allow the tears to form. _Tears are weakness._ He had told me a couple days after he started dating Roark. _And that would mean I'm even weaker than I already am._ "Please…" He whispered. "I have to go."

In a jolt of fiery rage, my hand shot out as he turned to leave, cuffing his wrist in it. "Damnit, Volkner! I told you you're not leaving until you tell me what's wrong!"

He cried out in fear, tears quickly beginning to well out of his eyes. "Maybe it's you, Flint! Maybe you're hurting me!" He quieted, a sort of twist forming on his face. I should've felt awful, but the unnatural, flat tone and lack of force in his voice told me he was lying.

"Volkner, really," I loosed my grip on his wrist. My temper cooled, leaving a hole in my stomach. I hurt him. I really did. But I wasn't the epicenter of his pain. I wasn't the cause. My voice softened to a soothing melody. "Just tell me what's wrong."

He opened his mouth to speak, but bit his lip back to restrict his pleas. I continued to try to coax the truth from him, and he continued to withdraw until, by some unfortunate miracle, Roark appeared from the sidewalk and approached us on the beachside. Volkner said nothing as Roark rode up roughly beside him, sloppily kissed him, and threw his arm around him. He, with a look of extreme discomfort, wrapped his arms around himself, as if hugging himself. Giving him a sense of security, I could only assume. He did not allow eye contact with Roark.

"Hey, babe. Whadda you doing out here with this bozo?"

"He-He's my best friend, Flint. Flint, I think you-you've met Roark a couple times."

Just the sight of this jackass made me grind my teeth together. "One too many." _You have glasses._ I thought to myself. _And I have a strong fist. I wonder who'll win?_

"C'mon, Volkie-boy, let's get ourselves outta here. Today's your day off, right?"

Volkner nodded in the slightest manor.

"Alright then! Me too. So why are you wasting your time with him?"

"He's my best friend. Like I said…"

"So we're leaving. We'll head to my dad's gym. See how he does it. How's that sound?"

"Um…" He took a long, pleading gaze at me, panic in his turquoise eyes. When I said nothing after not reading the words written on his eyes, he sighed. "I guess so."

"Good, now lemme talk to your friend here a while. You go… stare at Munchlax Rock or something." So Volkner, a defeated look on his face, went of in said direction. Roark approached me, a sort of haughty air around him. "Now look, he's my man."

"I know he's _your_ man." I responded in a nonchalant tone. I tried proportionately harder to keep this calm, because I hate him proportionately larger than most people. Roark is a jerk. He walks around, thinking he's the best trainer there is (wow, you have a level fourteen Cranidos? You must be an impeccable trainer!), just 'cause his daddy gave him his mine to work with all by himself. He must feel so proud to do something himself for once… I'm not even sure he made his way to the top to become the first Gym Leader (which, yes, you must become one of the best to get such a privilege. It's like going to college to become a first-grade teacher), and that his dad bribed some sucker.

"Well, if I see you do one smart move on him, you're dead."

"I'd like to see you try to beat me down with your bare hands."

Volkner, to stop the fighting, apparently, peeked his head out from behind the rocks. "Roark, I think it's time we go."

Roark, in response, snarled at me and left without another word. He gripped Volker's wrist with much force and as he did so, Volkner shot me a different look. Fiery, determined, gray eyes met the icy vacant blue, hoping to spark a shock to ignite the ocean that quelled inside of him.

I needed to find a way to get to him. To relax his shaking body. To re-spark the life in his empty eyes. But how?


	3. Ch 2: Silence of Sorrow

_Roark_

There was really no benefit of having him here. He doesn't smile. He doesn't love me. I could never imagine why. Aren't I good enough for him? I growled in frustration. All he does is sit around all glum-looking and expects his clown-of-a-prince to rescue him from the 'evil mine owner.' I give him everything! Food, a tour of the museum and mines (hell, he even gets in for free) and all the cruising he can handle. …Which isn't much considering he's susceptible to seasickness. I mean, isn't that enough? He gets his kisses and he gets his pleasure from me. Even _that's_ not enough. It's disgusting how much he hates me, and for no apparent reason.

My mind eventually pinned it on Roland McDonald. He must've poisoned Volkner's mind into thinking I'm some sort of devil. So I returned to Volkner after some other things and gave him his coffee as we sat alone in my father's house.

He smiled a small, forced smile. One of the many hiding hatred underneath it. "Thank you," He said expressionlessly.

I sat down by him and kissed him. "So, Canalave's cool, huh?"

"I suppose."

"…So you wanna go get some cruising going on?"

"No, not really. I'll get sick."

I tried to hide my increasing frustration. "Maybe check out the gym?"

"We already did."

"But it's vacant! Who knows? Maybe we could…" I nudged him. "Get some action?"

"Not today. I'm not in the mood."

My frustration boiled into rage. "Then when are you in the mood!" I cried, making him contract in fear. "I give you everything—EVERYTHING—and _this_ is how you choose to repay me?"

"I-I'm sorry…!" He gripped his coffee tightly, hoping some wouldn't spill on his oh-so precious Gothic clothes. By Arceus, I despise his clothing choice. All he's worn since he went on that trip to Ecruteak to see his precious brother, Morty, all he's been was a complete Goth. I don't understand it. It's disgusting to see him in black-everything. Black pants, ugly black boots, a black shirt (usually with gray or purple on it with a purple jacket, but it's still all too disgustingly dark), those horrible purple streaks in his hair, which he still decided to keep blonde instead of emo jet-black, surprisingly, and those awful accessories he decides to wear: a choke collar, black ear, lip, eyebrow, tongue and nose piercings (well, one of the five earrings were purple and one gray), little belts riddling his arms, and if not, fishnets and all the chains on his belt loop and his pants, hell! even one of his earrings pierces his left ear (the one with three earring holes) and makes a chain outta his ear! It was hideous.

But today he was only wearing a purple Ghastly shirt (reading 'Why So Serious?) and black jacket with skulls holding chains, fishnet arm sleeves (ugh... what is he? A girl?), black jeans and a few piercings. He didn't have on his right ear piercings, but his left ear had that disgusting chain earring. I just wanted to tear it out, not even to bother to care how much skin he lost. His nose was pierced with the purple earring (can you even wear an earring as a nose ring?) and his eyebrow piercing. As long as his lip and tongue wasn't pierced when we were kissing, I was at least able to start.

I continued to aggress on his lack of love for me. "Is it that stupid Flint? Is he saying that I'm a bad person? Huh? What? Are you cheating on me and that's why you're so upset? So that you can run away and be with that lowlife scumbag?"

He turned away from me. I heard the ungodly sound of a sniffle. "N-No… it's just—"

"Just what? Huh? Look me in the eyes, Volkie-boy!"

He did not do so. He, instead, bawled like a baby. "I can't…!" He sobbed as he covered his face in his pathetic hands.

"Get your face outta those hands and LOOK AT ME!" I screamed. "So what? You use those hands to masturbate to Flint, don't you?"

"No…!"

"Yeah? Then get them outta your face and look at me like the pathetic excuse for a boyfriend that you are," He continued to sob. "And I mean RIGHT. NOW!"

Fear rattling through his sad-sack self, he turned to me nervously, tears streaming though his eyes, ruining his oh-so perfect makeup. His body was coiled up and retracted, as if he was looking at some murderer.

In a last bit of rage, I struck him. He pressed himself against the table, as if trying to shrink away with it. "I'm so sorry… I—" He gasped for some air to cry again with. "I'm sorry!"

"And you better be! Now let's go to the fucking library and if I hear a word from you, you're dead."

"O-Ok…" And with his good compliance, we went to the beautiful library—yet another thing I give him that he doesn't appreciate.


	4. Ch 3: Read Between the Cuts

_Flint_

It had been a while after Volkner's trip to Canalave that I saw him again. It was only supposed to be 'a week's stay' and that's it. But it had been a whole month since I'd last seen him. A whole month's worth of time, but I finally got a day off. So from my home that was made for Elite Four number Three: Flint, I got the chance to return to Sunyshore, the home where I still happen to have my house (and not the oh-so luxury life) and meet back up with Volkner, finally being able to see what was going on.

When I arrived, I found that Volkner was taking his Leader's leave, and in his place was his sister Elesa, who took a vacation here to see her little brother. But, according to her, she couldn't find him either.

So I decided that I would return to my old house, and there I find a peculiar sight. The door was ajar, and I automatically came to the assumption that I was robbed. I sent out my Infernape and bound into my house headlong. No one was there, apparently, and, after searching a bit, I settled into my room. There, there was a note. 'I love you.' Was written in Volkner's perfect handwriting, and I got the chilling feeling something was horribly wrong. I left my house and my eyes met an unfamiliar sight. In my garage, there was some sort of gray. I came to it, and realized it was smoke. Gasoline. Within the garage, there was Volkner's car (yes, we use cars sometimes) with its window open and the car started, effectively fogging up the garage. With a shock, I pulled open the garage and allowed the gas to billow out. I came to the car's driver side and shrieked in pure horror. I dragged him out of the car and slammed open the ajar door, resting him on the couch.

"Oh Arceus, give me a miracle! Breathe Volkner, breathe!" And I performed CPR on the only thing rooting me to this earth anymore.

After a few more panicked attempts to revive him, he coughed and gasped back to life. "Wh-Where…?"

I began to cry, squeezing the man I loved to my chest. "Oh Arceus, Volkner! You're alive!" I sobbed.

"Fl-Flint… you saved me…?" He asked blindly, very much groggy. He flopped down in the couch without needing a response.

For a moment, the trauma of nearly losing him made me believe he was dead, but I saw his chest heaving as it does with sleep and I relaxed. I smoothed his hair endearingly. All of this beauty—all of these moments and lifelong memories—could have ceased in an instant. But why of all thing would he attempt suicide? He was at a troubling mental state, yes, but nothing to throw him off the deep end.

I growled. It was Roark, the asshole. He just wanted Volkner for his body and for sex. He never really loved him. Materialistically, yes, but he didn't love Volkner like how _I_ loved him. The only thing I could possibly say I'm jealous of is Roark's confidence to an extent. He could ask Volkner out. But that's because he didn't know him. He didn't know the permanent damage that would form if the love wasn't received.

My eyesight drifted until it caught something unfamiliar, and upsetting. There was some sort of reddish-black on Volkner's arm. Focusing, I realized his jacket's sleeve had rolled up from his slumber… exposing his scars. There were excessive amounts of cuts on his wrists—most fresh. This welled tears into my eyes yet again. To add insult to sickening injury, Volkner had not only tried to kill himself, but the pain was extended for months, and by assuming how long he was going out with Roark, for almost eight.

Volkner finally stirred again. "You're… my hero…"

The tears welling in my eyes turned into tears of happiness, just by the sweet sound of his voice that I feared I would never hear again. "Thanks, Volke," The smile turned a bit sour as I noticed he wasn't smiling himself. He didn't smile, but seemed a bit happier knowing I was there. Probably knowing he was alive.

"You… You got my note?"

"That's how I found you."

"Oh," He buried his head in the pillow. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? For loving me?"

"Aren't you straight?"

"About as straight as a circle."

I was hoping for a laugh from him—he would've been cracking up if he was himself— but it just produced a smirk, not even enough to be a smile. "I need help."

"I know that. I'll allow you to fall apart, because I can put you back together, as best as I can, anyway. You know how I am with glue…" I tried to spark a smile from him.

I got nothing. Instead, I got, "This is all going to get better, right? I mean… I have the only person that I can truly and unconditionally love right by my side."

I flushed, my body temperature going up a degree or two. "Th-Thanks…" I wanted to continue to explore this new level of romance, but in his state, I didn't think it would be appropriate. I mimicked the pout that I knew would draw on his face.

"What?" He asked, a bit of eerie anticipation in his voice. "It's bad isn't it?"

"You know what I'm gonna ask."

His smile disappeared. "I was hoping you weren't…" He took a deep breath. "It was…" He drifted off. Volkner was never judgmental. Surprisingly, he is an optimist and only sees the best in people. He also only sees the worst in himself. If you say something bad to him, he'll believe it forever. But if he said that same insult to you, he'd regret it. He never likes passing judgment. "Roark did it, okay?"

"How? Why?"

"I don't wanna say it…"

"He hurt you?" Tears welling in his eyes—probably feeling like an awful person—he nodded. "Like how?" And Volkner, with a sigh and a few tears dripping down his chin, he lifted his shirt up, making me shudder a little that my fantasies were coming true. But it was nothing like my fantasies. I nearly shrieked in horror again. It took almost everything in me not to express such weakness when he was already so weak himself. His chest was almost entirely discolored. It was either purple or black or some loathsome mix of the two. I even some greens and blues and reds it there. There were some cuts along his chest, but he revealed to me that there were more along his back as he spun around. Although in complete shock, disgust for Roark (and probably his father, too) and horror, I managed to gasp out, "He did all this…?"

And Volkner nodded. "I'm sorry I-I-I didn't leave him…" He sniffled.

"No… no…" My lack of strategy with words did not let me produce any more comfort for him. Instead, to compensate, I allowed my movements, my very underdeveloped love movements, to make their impact. I wrapped my arms around him and allowed him to weep into my shirt. "It's okay, Volkner. I won't let him hurt you anymore. I promise." My anger towards Roark finally boiled down. "I promise you, Volkner, when this is all over, I'm gonna find that scumbag Roark and show him what it's like to mess with the Elite Four number Three, the one and only Flint. He thinks that his First Gym self and his Sixth Gym dad can shoot down my Eighth Gym new boyfriend and Elite Four Three? Not on my watch."


	5. Ch 4: Freedom

_Volkner_

"Flint, please don't…" I begged, my tear ducts having dried up all the tears from yesterday. Apparently, it took my saliva with it, because of they dryness and lifelessness of my voice. How could I be so pathetic? Couldn't I just do this myself? And why did I have to drag my best friend, and not-so-secret-anymore crush into this? He didn't deserve to be caught up in my shit. If Roark wanted to do shit to me, I could handle it myself. Well… I probably couldn't… but Flint certainly didn't have to deal with it. "Please don't do this…" I begged in one final bout of hopelessness.

But he wouldn't listen, as always. "No, Volke. I love you way too much as a friend… and I'm now realizing way, _way_ more as a _boy_friend to let this happen. You don't deserve a lowlife like Roark. You deserve me. You deserve someone that'll treat you right." He figured out he was able to find the right words if he didn't think. "Someone that'll love you." He kissed my forehead.

"But still, Flint," I moved in front of him. "Can't we just let this go? You don't have to fight him."

"It's the only way I'll know he'll leave you alone."

"But what if he doesn't?"

"Then I'll just get the Board of the Leagues and tell them what he and Byron are doing to you." He smiled at me. "And that's that."

"But that'll just be a problem for the new trainers when they have to get substitute Gym Leaders… not just one, but_ two_, and then there's gonna be a lot of renovating. Trust me, that's what happened when Mom died…"

"Yeah, you got the Gym. You tried to renovate it to make it look nicer to help out your depression. Bam, the lights go out and you feel even worse. But really, your mother isn't mad at you for changing it. She always said that solar energy is good. I'm sure she just did that in heaven to mess with you. Y'know, give you a challenge like she always did." He lifted my chin and pressed his warm lips to my frigid ones. Each of us quivered a bit from the respective exchange of heat and cool.

I pulled away, feeling all wrong. "I… I can't, Flint. I'm not in the mood." And I reflexively winced from the last experience with those said words, 'I'm not in the mood.'

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I insisted in a voice all too weak to insist anything.

He rested a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. But as he did, I heard an all-too-familiar cry: "WHAT THE HELL DID I SAY? Get away from my man!" Roark shouted, a shovel in his hand. I winced at this as well, remembering the cause of all my cuts and bruises.

"Yeah? Well I don't think he's your man anymore!" Flint growled back, not batting an eye from this deranged shovel-wielder.

"Oh, so he's a whore now, huh? You go ahead and cheat on me in front of my very own two eyes, huh?" He waved the shovel around menacingly.

"I'm not letting you touch him." Flint said in a solid tone. He lowered himself, like a Persian ready to pounce on its prey. He gave me a single defensive look. I was screaming inside, begging him not to attack Roark. Flint would be the monster, the way Byron would word it. He was always better than his son—so therefore Flint—with words. I would be his conspirator. I wanted my screams to leave my body, but the fear pushed it back down my throat, producing meek whimpers in its place.

But no one attacked. Flint wasn't about to. He tried to bark Roark away, so no harm would come to me. He still had me to fight for. Roark, instead, mused. "So what? You guys fucked yet?" He directed his cold tone to me. "I would've given you everything, _Volkie-boy_." He said his ugly nickname of me harshly and choppily. "Everything."

"Yeah. Bruises and swears all-inclusive, huh?" Flint growled, his sarcastic nature undermining his tone. "But you shouldn't say 'everything,' Roark. You mean 'everything I can give you,' which doesn't include love."

"You're saying I'm an abuser?"

"Fuck yes, I am. I saw his bruises. I saw his cuts. Some were in places he couldn't reach. I already thought about that, Rocky. He couldn't have done that to himself to antagonize you." His tone turned cold, fire fueling the passion of his words. "You. Hurt. Him. Bad enough for him to try to throw away everything: his Pokemon, his older siblings, Morty and Elesa, his dad in Kanto, his memories… me… just because you made him feel like he was nothing worth our time. He tried to asphyxiate himself last night, you know that?" Roark wasn't swayed by his attempt at guilt. "You were all that gas in the garage. You were choking him. You tried to take his life away." He personified, "That gas was harmless. He would've never tried to use that to kill himself. You were the reason that gas was turned nearly-fatal that night. You're his own murder weapon, no matter how you put it. And trust me, with all the shit we've been through, he knows how to use _everything_ as a murder weapon." His voice quieted. "I just never thought he'd use his gifts to try to end his life…"

"Yeah? Well, y'know what? So what! He was useless, anyway! All he ever did was whine and cry and complain! And after he was done with all that, he'd just throw all his emotions away to get people to notice!"

"How did you guys ever even _start_ dating, I can only wonder." Flint smirked.

Roark, hearing this, explained himself. "My dad arranged it for me. He said," And he tried to imitate his father's gruff voice, " 'Son, I know you're gay, so it's about time I find you a man.' So I was like, 'You have someone in mind?' And he was like, 'Yeah, I've got a couple. How's about Aaron?' And I informed him, 'No, he's dating that Falkner guy in Johto.' And so he suggested Volkie-boy," He sneered sourly. "And I thought, 'Wow, yeah. He's a beautiful guy and everyone pretty much knows he's gay, so this'll work out perfectly!' So I went out to dinner with him—I actually surprised him by saying it was a date, 'cause apparently my dad didn't explain to him that it was, and rather that I was simply treating him to dinner, y'know, Leader to Leader—and we started dating. Then he started hanging out with you again and it all turned bad."

I couldn't mute myself any longer. No one could bridge the gap but me. "No, you have it wrong!" I blurted out, surprising Flint with my sudden speech. "I did hang out with him, yes, but that _is not_ how it ended. I came back to you and you thought I was cheating on you with Flint, and I wasn't. We were still friends because I thought he was straight. But you started hurting me, then. I told you that we were only friends but you didn't believe me." I began to sob. "You didn't stop hurting me and I couldn't take it anymore! Flint found me, though, and I owe my life to him. And he loves me instead of thinking I'm some sort of lying monster. I mean, how was I supposed to get through to you? If I told you 'no,' you called me a liar. Then what else can I do?"

"You could've convinced me!"

"I already noticed how violent you already were with your coworkers at the mine. I was already afraid of you…!"

"You didn't have to be."

"Just admit it, Roark!" I shrieked. "You did this to yourself!"

Roark felt he was running out of options. He readied his shovel. Flint, to my horror, readied himself in my defense, ready to break every bone in his body for me. I don't know if the whole 'a life for a life' thing is what he was going for.

But just before Roark charged, I heard a gruff voice shouting behind him. Roark was lifted into the air, making him drop his shovel, by his father, Byron. "This has _got_ to stop, kid."

"D-Dad?" Roark was shocked. I had always antagonized Roark's father, since he was the one that, even though distantly, was the reason for all of this. I suppose all of those accusations were rash. "What are you doing? Lemme go!"

"No, Son. You've done this long enough. Isn't it time you let the poor kid go?"

"Well, let _me_ go and I'll tell you!"

"Not until you calm the fuck down." And, after a moment, Roark slumped, tired and defeated. "Look, Volkner, the reason I hooked you up with my son is because I thought you'd be able to calm down his quick temper. Hell, you have to deal with Flint everyday, so I was thinking that it'd be no problem. So I figured that being close to him romantically would be the best option. Y'know, you can ignore a friend, but you can't ever really ignore a boyfriend or a girlfriend. But I didn't know that he'd be too much for you. I _certainly_ didn't know he was hurting you so badly. I just never got the chance to settle down and observe it firsthand. Not even when you were right in front of me, watching me take on chumps who thought they could beat me. I didn't even realize how bad Roark got you." He finally released his son. "I just guess he needs someone professional. Then maybe he can start to love again. Maybe I can have my son back."

Roark looked away, ashamed. "Dad… I-I can't help it."

"I know that, but if one of the kids say you hurt him, then you did, whether you remember it or not. Trying to mask it all by getting more angry doesn't help at all. C'mon now, you have to admit it to yourself that you need help, or you might get yourself in a worse situation. Just take the first step, Son."

"But…" And he sighed. "…I need help." And with that, he began to tear up, with them eventually dripping down his face. I'm not sure if it was from tire, or from collected realization of what he had done. I'll never know. All I know is that he was relaxed enough not to shout and do some sort of rash decision. "Volkner… I'm sorry. I didn't think I needed my medications anymore because I had you… instead I only took out my anger on you… I swear I'm not like this usually. I just… I'm so, so sorry…"

And although Flint was steaming, thinking Roark was making excuses again, I went up to him and embraced him. "I forgive you, Roark. You just need help, that's all. But I'm sorry to say I don't think we'll be getting back together. We can still be friends."

Roark sniffled. "You serious? After all I did…?"

"I promise we'll be friends if you promise to get help." I held out my pinky.

And he, in response, gratefully locked his pinky with mine.


	6. Epilogue: A Smile

_Flint_

Even though it was three months after the incident, it still felt a bit strange to see Roark so calm. Arceus, meds can do _anything_ nowadays. I stared out into the ocean, the crisp waves washing its white hands out to me, then retracting it. It reminded me of Volkner when he was trapped. He wanted to scream out his agony, but would refuse to tell me. The thoughts of him and all the pain he went through… it nearly brought a tear to my eye.

But it was kindly taken care of when something slapped me in the side of my head. "YOU'RE IT!" Volkner laughed. The sweet, chiming sound I was so happy to hear everyday.

I pulled a mischievous grin. He yelped in response and retreated into the water. He realized I hated the water—which, by the way, he frankly loves—and must have also realized that I didn't carry my bathing trunks. He was perfectly comfortable in his watery home. "Just you wait, Volkner! Just lemme get my trunks and you'll be asking for it!"

He gasped in a joking manor. "And risk your poof getting depoofified?" He invented the word. For a natural-born, twenty-year-old genius, he really _did _act at my level sometimes. But who said you _had_ to be serious _all the time_? Since we announced our coupling, we had been given a bit more free time. Hell, we had a whole three months to ourselves that just started last week. We were thinking of going to America next week. We'd meet his father's family, he'd suggested. I had to disagree, because his father doesn't even know he's gay. Let alone having a boyfriend. But we'd go to American nonetheless. I heard it has great Pokemon interactions, and... it's like all of the regions combined. There's some Unova in the north and west, Hoenn in the midwest (why can't they call it the middle?), and Tohjo everywhere else. It'd be a cruise that he promised he'd weather.

I returned with my trunks on and a wife-beater. His was already strewn on the sand when he attacked me. "Now you're gonna get it!" And I made an playfully evil laugh/growl/roar hybrid as I chased him further into the drink.

"Sweet Arceus!" He laughed, plunging himself deeper into the water.

Little did he know, where he's a better swimmer, _I _was a better diver. I dragged his feet underneath when he thought he was free of me. "Rawr! Here's Sparky!"

"Hey—! Glubglubglub… I'm Sparky! You're… um… Boomy?"

"Boomy? How does that have to do with fire?"

"Um…" He snapped his fingers repeatedly to try to get his thoughts going. "Um… Burn-y?"

"Now you're just not making any sense."

"But _I'm _Sparky…" He playfully whined. "You can be something else. But _I'm _Sparky." And in the moments after—the words lost to me—where he continued to complain, I realized the beauty of the sun reflecting on the water droplets inching down his back. I wrapped my arms around him. "Urp! Flint…"

"What?" I asked in an expectant tone, resting my head on his shoulder.

He giggled a bit. "I love you." And he pressed his lips against mine, teasing them as he put virtually no pressure on it. Just a little spark, making me hungry for more. I tried to kiss him back more roughly, but he refused for there to be much pressure between us, continuing the game. Eventually he allowed the full force of our lips to come together, so I even nibbled his lower lip and the end, producing a low-pitched whimper from deep in his throat.

I kissed him back repeatedly, until our heat finally settled down. In the buoyancy of the water, I wrapped my arms around him, allowing my heartbeat to ring in his ears. I kissed him on his temple one final time. "I love you, too."


End file.
